


Don’t Keep On Pretending

by malfoyfamilycrest (Kate_Marley)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: (and a little angst), Auror Harry Potter, Confessions, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, M/M, Mentions of Sixth and Seventh Year, Mentions of past Hinny and Drastoria, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Proud Parents, Teaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-06-24 03:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19715038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_Marley/pseuds/malfoyfamilycrest
Summary: After a talk to fifth years about Auror training, Harry Potter stops by the Potions classroom. Chatting with Draco Malfoy about Albus and James’s performance in Potions leads to a talk about the most uncomfortable moments of their past, but maybe they can proceed from there…





	Don’t Keep On Pretending

**Author's Note:**

  * For [donnarafiki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/donnarafiki/gifts).



> Dearest Donna, I hope I’m doing your prompt (26: Song from Mr Ray – Finding Nemo) justice even though there are far less nerdy term in it than I had hoped there would! It was also meant to be longer, but things spiralled out of control a little, so I decided to use this rewritten scene for HD Wireless and write a longer fic about teacher Draco without pressure of time… I hope you’ll still like what I’m offering here!
> 
> Thank you to my beta C and to the mods for being so patient with me (I’m very sorry about the delay!) as well as for hosting this amazing fest!

“…a very difficult and time-consuming process.”

Harry followed the voice that was drifting out of a door on the ground floor that had been left ajar.

“You are very lucky to have one of you in your midst who has convinced the Headmistress of her patience and dedication to undertake it.”

Draco Malfoy was speaking to a group of seventh-years standing in front of their cauldrons. He was teaching Potions in a room awash with sunlight, so very different from Snape’s clammy classroom in the Dungeons.

“Miss Carpenter here is certainly one of the brightest witches in your generation—no need to get embarrassed, Martha, I’m only speaking the truth! In fact, you remind me of a girl in my own year who was also Muggleborn and whom many considered the brightest witch of her generation…”

“He means Aunt Hermione!” an all too familiar voice whispered so loud that the whole classroom could hear it.

“Potter is right, I mean Hermione Granger,” Draco confirmed. “But, James, instead of being vicariously proud of your aunt, I’d rather you worked harder for you own achievements! You won’t need an O in Potions in order to play for Puddlemere United, but don’t forget there’s always a life after Quidditch! Besides, I know you have it in you to achieve an O and I’d be severely disappointed if I learned you didn’t do your best in my subject.” 

James mumbled something unintelligible but fell silent. And when did he ever do that when his parents admonished him to work more for his N.E.W.T.s? Harry felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“In any case,” Draco continued his lesson. “I’d like to remind you that the next full moon is this Friday and that those of you who would like to watch Martha brew the Animagus potion may gather at the staircase to the Astronomy tower at nine o’clock in the evening.” He paused to look at his students. “This is completely voluntary, of course, but those of you for whom it is easier to watch a potion get brewed rather than just reading about it in order to memorise how it is done should give it some thought. As you all know, you may be questioned about Animagi and about the Animagus potion in both your Transfiguration and your Potions exams.”

There was a strained silence. Everyone seemed tense once they were reminded of how close the date of their examinations had come.

“And now”—Draco clapped his hands—“be sure to tidy up your seats and cauldrons. Then you may go. Revise well, but remember that it’s good to make some time for your hobbies—anything that takes your minds away from your exam for half an hour a day. It’s not healthy to be so tense for such a long period of time.”

Harry stepped back until he was hidden in the shadows between two suits of armour. He didn’t have his Invisibility Cloak with him, but he didn’t want his son to know he had overheard one of his lessons.

The seven-years left the classroom in groups of two or three. James left with two of his friends, Martin and Alfie, but even their laughter sounded strained. After a while, Harry was sure that all of them had left, but a voice from Draco’s classroom made him stop in his path towards the classroom.

“Professor Malfoy?” a girl’s voice mumbled. She sounded as if she had something in her mouth.

“Yes, Martha?”

“Will you … uh, will you be there when I brew the Animagus potion? I know you’re normally at home on Friday evenings, but I’d feel better if I knew you were there … You know, just to make sure…”

“Of course I will!” Draco said in a reassuring tone. “I don’t think you’ll actually need me to get it all right, but I know it can feel better to have a set of supportive eyes watch over you while you brew your potion.”

“Thank you, Sir!” the girl said hastily before she rushed out of the classroom, apparently trying to catch up with her friends.

At last, Harry stepped out of the shadows and into the classroom, watching Draco vanish what he had written on the board. He was wearing an emerald robe with platinum threads that matched the colour of his hair.

Harry didn’t know when he had begun to look for Draco on the Marauder’s Map again, albeit for very different reasons than in sixth year. He suspected it had been sometime after Ginny’s realisation that it would be better for them to be friends rather than a married couple because that was what their marriage had devolved into over time—camaraderie; friendship; not a love relationship anymore.

At first, he had been surprised when Draco had made the decision to follow Minerva’s suggestion and take up teaching Potions at Hogwarts. He had never envisioned Draco as a teacher; had even doubted his ability to be compassionate towards children. True, Scorpius was a kind and considerate boy, but Draco himself had always claimed that the reason his son had turned out so well had been his late wife’s doing. That was why he had started to pop by at Hogwarts more often—offer some Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons; pop by to visit Neville and Hannah… It was astounding how many reasons he could come up with just to watch Draco’s teaching. 

His initial goal had been to make sure Hogwarts hadn’t hired yet another teacher who wasn’t fit for the job. Then he had realised he had been wrong all along. Rationally, he had understood a year ago that Draco wasn’t that insufferable brat who thought about nothing but his own benefit anymore. Emotionally, Harry only understood how much Draco had changed when he watched him in front of a class—helping the slower children; teasing mischief-makers like James to keep their attention; showing compassion when someone was insecure.

The final change had been the slowest and yet the most surprising: The way watching Draco’s teaching made Harry smile; the way his eyes lingered on Draco’s frame; how he noticed what Draco was wearing and how much it suited him; his eagerness to exchange a few words with Draco without letting him know just how much he had been looking forward to it… Harry knew what was happening, but he was reluctant to acknowledge it, let alone tell Draco how he was feeling about him. The thought that he had started to fancy his old school rival—the very person who had caused him so much anger and pain as a child—still felt too daunting, even if they had struck up a tentative friendship during the past year.

“Harry?” Draco’s surprised voice interrupted his thoughts. “I didn’t know there was a lesson with you scheduled for today. Or did you just visit Neville?”

“Nah, I held a talk in front of a few fifth-years who were interested in becoming Aurors.” Harry shrugged. “Our sons weren’t there, but I suppose they know a lot about my job anyway.”

“Your job?” Draco raised an eyebrow. “Being Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement doesn’t exactly involve the field work normal Aurors are expected to do, or does it?”

_Touché._ Harry suppressed a wince. “Still, they must have heard all my stories at least twice by now… Anyway,” he tried to deflect the topic, “I heard what you said to James. I’m pleasantly surprised to hear he can get an O in Potions.”

“He _might,”_ Draco said cautiously. “James is a very intelligent boy, but he has a certain tendency to do only what he needs to in order to achieve his aim – which isn’t an O in Potions but…

“…a position on the Quidditch team Oliver Wood is training,” Harry completed the sentence for him. “He was hardly talking about anything else last summer.”

“Exactly,” Draco confirmed. “So if you want him to do a little more, you have to tickle his ambition. Telling him he might achieve an O might actually make him strive for an O and, consequently, make him get one in the end.” He smirked. “Self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“So that’s how Slytherin teachers spur on their students.” Harry smiled. “Speaking of, how is my other son doing? After all, Albus’s O.W.L.s are just around the corner, too.”

Draco sighed. “Quite frankly, my son is doing Merlin’s work getting your son ready for his O.W.L.s. I wish I was allowed to credit points to Slytherin for what Scorpius is doing, but unfortunately, Minerva has forbidden me to either reward or grade him – to the disadvantage of Slytherin House, as I may point out. Any other Potions teacher would give points to Slytherin for my son’s own knowledge and for his willingness to help other students, not just a proud father – though I will readily admit that I am proud to be his father.”

Harry believed the corners of his mouth would split if he smiled any harder. The way Draco spoke about his son was heartwarming. Harry was fairly certain that a large part of his infatuation with Draco Malfoy was due to the solemn pride he felt for Scorpius.

“Don’t grin as if he already passed all his O.W.L.s!” Draco scolded, apparently mistaking Harry’s smile for a reaction about Albus. “I’m not too worried about my own subject, but Scorpius says Albus probably shouldn’t have decided to take Arithmancy in the first place…”

“He’s chosen most of his subjects because Scorpius said he wanted to do them anyway.” Harry shrugged. “I didn’t even study Arithmancy while I was at Hogwarts…”

“Yes, you preferred to continue _Divination.”_ Draco rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Arithmancy was a very interesting subject. It suits people with a penchant for logics.”

“You sound like Hermione.” Harry chuckled. He had hardly noticed it back in the day, but, looking back, he realised Draco had often competed with Hermione to be at the top of a class they shared—and had usually failed. For some reason, that realisation only added to the soft spot he had developed for Draco: The need to seek knowledge was apparently something that was ingrained in his personality, even when he had still been deluded by the Death Eaters’ pureblood fanatism.

“Sounding like Hermione only confirms that I am right,” Draco said without batting an eyelash. “I do hope Scorpius manages to enable Albus to pass his Arithmancy exam. If your son can’t continue a subject, mine probably won’t want to do so either.”

“Who’d have thought our sons would be that inseparable…” Harry pondered, not for the first time.

“I sometimes wonder…” Draco said tensely, turning towards the window next to him.

“What would have happened if I hadn’t rejected your offer of friendship?” Harry asked. He sometimes wondered the same, but he couldn’t see his eleven-year-old self accept a friendship offer from someone who had reminded him so much of Dudley and who had insulted the friends he had just made.

“No,” Draco said quietly. “If you had rejected that offer if I hadn’t been raised as the arrogant, self-centred brat I was at the time.”

Harry didn’t reply. He hadn’t phrased the question that way before.

“I thought for the longest time that this was just who I was: Someone who singled out the weaknesses of any person who dared to slight or ignore me and who knew exactly what to say in order to hurt them most.” Draco’s voice sounded absent; focused on his thoughts and memories rather than the sunlit spot in which he was currently standing.

“Then Astoria came and called me out on my bullshit,” Draco continued. “She showed me that I had it in me to be better than that … and that it is possible to tease someone in good humour rather than deliberately saying hurtful things.” He paused, still looking out of the window. Harry imagined a wistful smile on his lips.

“I thought all was well after that, but then our sons became friends… No, it was actually after that; when Astoria had died and I had stopped grieving so much that everything else paled against my pain of loss…”

Harry felt a sudden impulse to hug Draco, but he also wanted to hear what he had to say. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from stepping closer.

“Then I started to realise that if my son could be kind and helpful and unprejudiced because Astoria and me had striven to raise him that way, then maybe…” Draco stopped. Harry wanted to close the distance between them even more, but before he could bring himself to do so, Draco spoke on. “Maybe, if I had been raised to be considerate of others, I would have become your friend.”

“We’re friends now,” Harry pointed out. “Why is that still so important to you?”

“Ah, Harry, isn’t that obvious?” Draco turned to face him. “I’d have had someone to turn to when the Dark Lord ordered me to kill Dumbledore.” Harry could see the nervousness in his eyes, but Draco’s lips were pressed to a determined line. Draco was still afraid of many things, it seemed, but he had overcome his erstwhile cowardice and was ready to face his fears.

“The way it was,” Draco spoke on, “all I could do was imagine what could have been if I hadn’t been too dumb and too blind to realise at which points in time I could have turned my life around before it was too late.” He smiled a contrite smile. “Go to Dumbledore. Not try to attack you when you followed me into that bathroom. Something like this.”

“I cornered you,” Harry said with an uncomfortable shrug. “I think it was only natural for you to lash out.” He paused. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what that spell—” Draco interrupted him with a snort of mirthless laughter.

_“You didn’t know._ You cast a spell, and you didn’t know what it was doing.”

“I honestly didn’t,” Harry said weakly. He hated the turn this conversation had taken. One moment ago, he had felt the need to hug Draco, almost been ready to confess, and now… Now he had been brutally reminded of all the reasons why confessing his feelings to Draco wasn’t a good idea at all.

“I believe you,” Draco said, surprising Harry once again. “Typical Gryffindor thing, acting before thinking—acting before you have all the information, too.” He laughed again, less bitter than before. “I don’t think I was any better, though. For the Cruciatus Curse to take effect, you have to actually mean it. I never _wanted_ anyone to die or even get seriously hurt, least of all you. Insult you, best you, get you to lose your temper—all of that. But torture you?” He shrugged helplessly.

“So you _did_ recognise me in the Manor…” It was something Harry had always wanted to know, but there had never been a right moment to ask.

“Harry,” Draco said in his best _What-question-is-this-even_ tone. “I had tried to get your attention for six years in a row. They had caught Ron and Hermione too. How bloody stupid do you think I am?”

“Not _that_ stupid,” Harry countered with half a smile. “I just always wondered why you had done it.” Suddenly feeling bold, he added: “One would almost think you had a thing for me.”

Of course Draco wouldn’t pick up on that. It was just teasing. Alright, curiosity masked as teasing, but…

“Nonsense,” Draco crushed his hopes. “You may have forgotten, but you were pretty much the only chance anyone who didn’t fancy a life under the Dark Lord’s rule had at the time. Knowing what life was like at the Manor where he already ruled, I didn’t want that for my whole lifetime. So I didn’t identify you.”

“No,” Draco repeated. “A strange infatuation with my school nemesis didn’t play a part in my decision-making.” He looked at Harry. “I never even knew I had it until I thought you had died in the Forest.”

_What?_ Harry was pretty sure he looked as dumb as he felt.

“Sorry to thrust that knowledge at you out of the blue.” Draco brushed a strand of white-blond hair to the side—an obvious nervous gesture. “I should probably have given it a rest, but… I don’t know. Maybe I just don’t want to keep on pretending. Astoria has showed me that settling for someone else doesn’t have to mean settling for anything less. I love her, and I love you. I’m aware I can’t have either anymore.”

“Love?” Harry had never been one to pick up on the subtleties of meaning, but he did realise Draco had used the present tense. “So you still love me?”

“Never fell out of it.” Draco gave a helpless shrug. “If that’s a problem… If you don’t want to be my friend anymore because of this, I can assure you that I will never pursue…”

“Stop,” Harry interrupted him. “Stop, stop. You can’t just drop a bombshell like this—pureblood wizards do know what bombshells are, don’t they?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Anyway, you can’t just say something like this and then expect me to brush it aside like I haven’t been thinking these past _months_ how to tell you that _I_ have started to fancy you just from watching you teach and from being the kindest teacher I have ever seen, and I’ve been worried _you_ wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore if you knew and…” He blinked. “I know I’m rambling now; I’m just going to stop talking.”

“What?” Now it was Draco who was staring at him dumbstruck.

“Long story short,” said Harry. “If we feel the same, we could… I don’t know. Give it a try? Start dating or something?”

“We could.” Draco gave him a tiny smile. “It’s just… I might need a few moments to come to terms with that.”

“Fine by me.” Harry finally closed the distance between them, brushing his shoulder against Draco’s as he looked out of the window with him. The sun was setting over the Great Lake, bathing it in yellowish light.

“Did you ever contemplate the fact that you never know whether you’re watching a sundown or a sunset in a painting unless the painter explicitly states which one it is?”

“No.” Harry smiled at Draco. “But I know what you’re trying to tell me.”

“Do you?” Draco’s smile was playful now. It made Harry’s heart flutter.

“It means that some new beginnings start at sunset on a school day.”


End file.
